


Punishment

by RegallyLoyal



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Romantic Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:02:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegallyLoyal/pseuds/RegallyLoyal
Summary: She woke up with the feeling of victory in her bones, only to have it shatter before her eyes when the image of Snow White swam before it, making grand accusations of being herwifeof all things. And perhaps the curse was supposed to be her happy ending, but this certainly felt like a punishment to her.orthe one where Regina finds herself married to Snow White during the curse.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	1. Prologue: The awakening

**Author's Note:**

> This was an old fic that I had posted, but removed about a year ago. I have decided to re-write and complete this work, and will post as I finish a chapter.
> 
> Thank you to those who loved this story before, and have provided support through the years. This is for all of you, and I hope you enjoy!

For things to rebuild, it must first fall apart.

Regina knew what she was getting into, holding onto that dark curse that promised a hole in her heart. There was nothing that could make her feel as worse as she did now, with a curse her only option whilst her nemesis celebrated a marriage born from love.

That was something Snow White had deprived her of. Daniel had paid for the mistakes of a child, one who would do anything to keep Regina nearby—no matter if it cost so much that things had led them to where they are now. Who else could say they caused a war because of a secret? Snow White was special, and only a curse made equal to her would suffice.

It took too long to gather all the ingredients, to pluck and pull things from the corners of the world for Regina’s happy ending. By the time the thought of the curse had begun to consume her, Regina hadn’t bathed nor eaten nor _lived_. Everything was about the curse, about casting it, about making it on time to Snow White’s castle.

The dark cloud of the curse followed Regina as she rode in her carriage, dressed and bathed, looking regal and victorious despite it all. When she finally came upon her nemesis clutching her bleeding husband to her chest, Regina revelled in the sight of Snow White so _broken_.

“Why did you do this?” Snow asked from her position on the floor, the nightdress she wore fanning around her in an aura of white.

For a moment, Regina took the time to consider, to lean down until her face was close enough to kiss. “Because,” she whispered, affectionate and relieved, “you deserve this.”

Green eyes widened, fearful for the first time in a long time. Snow White had been defeated by the hands of the Evil Queen; her husband and child ripped from her in the name of a curse.

The child was Regina’s concern for all of three minutes; an infant escaped through a hollowed-out tree, and no one to care for her: She would not survive. With that thought, Regina looked down at Snow, watching as the purple and black from the curse cloud reflected in her eyes. It swirled around them, beautiful and vibrant, a thing that had been given life by Regina’s hand.

“My happy ending. _Mine_.” And that was all Regina ever wanted.

* * *

She awoke with a start.

It felt like she had been reborn, cast into a world so different from her own, that nothing seemed familiar. The ceiling was painted white, only a sliver of sunlight casting over the dull plane. Regina followed the light with her gaze, focusing on cream curtains that parted only slightly to display a cheery morning.

A part of her was afraid her curse had been a dream. Or worse, that it had gone wrong somehow. She shivered, shifting slowly to sit up in the bed, her white sheets pushed aside to reveal a silk pyjama set. Everything about the room screamed comfort, a display of elegance instead of power that she harnessed before.

Tentatively, as if the images before her were only an illusion, Regina approached the window and peered outside through the crack in the curtain.

It was bright, and dull, and a few people she knew were walking outside, completely at ease with their environment. The sight was enough for her to smile, for the tension in her shoulders to ease off as she realised her curse worked.

“Morning,” said a voice from somewhere behind her. Regina jumped at the sound, whipping her head around to the source of it.

There, leaning against the doorway bathed in light, Regina saw what no happy ending should include. _Snow White_.

It was a trick; Regina was sure of it. She had measured out every ingredient, sacrificed the one she loved most—this wasn’t a sleeping curse was it? Forced to spend her days staring at her nemesis, debating whether Snow’s death might unravel everything she had worked for.

Snow cocked her head to the side, arms crossed over her chest as she approached. Regina felt herself back up, trying to maintain distance between them. It would not do to act impulsively, not when there were so many things at work here, bits of the curse that might rely on one thing or another. 

When Snow felt herself close enough—just enough that if Regina really wanted, she could reach up and strangle the girl—she asked, “What’s wrong?” She asked it so softly, that Regina had to strain to listen, to pretend she didn’t hear the fondness in Snow’s voice. When she did not provide a response, Snow’s worry translated into the physical, where she thought herself worthy to touch Regina, to lay her hand on Regina’s face with a silent question.

The tender caress had her confused. Since when did Snow White become so affectionate towards the Evil Queen? Was this the curse? Or was it her hopes and dreams from an eon ago— “ _What if you went back, and she forgave you. You could be a family again_.”—hadn’t she said that when she was disguised as Wilma the Peasant? Aching and hoping for a connection. But that was long past now, buried under years of hatred that wouldn’t disappear so quickly with a curse.

What Regina wanted was for Snow to suffer. Not to be _loved_. 

“What are you doing here?” came the question, bitten out with enough anger that Snow took a step back. The hurt that Regina saw cross Snow’s expression was satisfying, if only for a moment before her space was violated again.

With a sigh to accompany a soft expression, Snow shook her head at Regina’s tone, brushing it off like it was nothing. This at least, was familiar; even if there was far less fight than Regina was used to. “Don’t be angry,” Snow said, “but I made breakfast for us.”

For a moment, Regina was confused, distracted by the thought of eating something that might be laced with poison. She wanted to yell, to blame the creator of her curse for allowing such obscenities. Snow looked too comfortable here, in nightwear that wasn’t stained by blood, with her cheeks too rosy and her eyes too bright. It lingered on Regina for too long, somehow knowing of things that the curse should have erased. Questions upon questions, and none of them seemed appropriate enough to ask.

“Are you all right?” Snow asked, looking properly concerned, her hand back on Regina’s face which was shrugged off with a grunt. “Is it because—” Snow paused, swallowing as Regina added more distance between them.

“What?” Regina barked out, debating whether killing Snow White would be a good idea or not. Would the curse really miss her? Because surely this wasn’t the Snow Regina was used to, not when there wasn’t an arrow pointed at her head and a hope speech thrown around the room. Whoever this person was, Regina had to tread carefully, she had to make sure that everything stayed intact.

Snow crossed her arms over her chest, her hands balled up in loose fists. “You promised this wouldn’t affect us,” she whispered, speaking down to her bare feet, her long black hair falling like a curtain around her shoulders. Regina looked at the image of the one she had been fighting for years and only saw a small girl, desperate for her approval.

Curious, Regina stepped forward, knowing that should this all be a ruse, she could still put up a good fight—the fact that she hadn’t eaten in days was ignored. “You’re not making sense,” she hissed, reaching out to roughly grab Snow’s chin, their gazes meeting with the same tension that had always been present before the curse.

They were close again, too close. Instead of violence like Regina had expected, Snow leaned forward with aggression, as if trying to prove a point, and pressed her lips to Regina’s own. It was a short kiss, possessive and harsh. But a kiss, nonetheless.

Time slowed down, and just when Regina thought the curse might break—or worse, that she would close her eyes and kiss back—Snow moved away, turning her face to the side. She murmured a, “Sorry.” It was weak, but Regina couldn’t help but relish the sincerity in it, couldn’t help but want it one more time. It was a dangerous thing to desire, especially from a woman she ought to hate.

“You should be,” Regina rasped, turning Snow’s face toward her again, her fingers digging into pale cheeks. Maybe, Regina would have admitted to wanting one more kiss if she got another apology. Maybe she would have uncovered a memory so old, it might taste as sweet as Snow did one summer night under an apple tree. But a glint from her finger, and all notions of apology and memory seemed unimportant.

Catching her line of sight, Snow reached up to run her finger over the ring, a plain silver band with etchings of a royal. “You promised,” she said, her lips ghosting over Regina’s palm, warming the skin with her words. “You promised having a child would not break this marriage.”

A sharp inhale, and Regina felt her eyes widen, searching for Snow’s left hand which held a similar band. Married, joined in matrimony to the one she loathed. The sound of a piercing cry prevented her from squeezing into Snow’s neck, to release her from a punishment this curse had brought upon them both.

With a significant look, Snow left the room whilst gathering her hair up into a bun. She paused briefly at the doorway, looking at Regina over her shoulder before disappearing completely. Regina would be lying if she didn’t admit to following Snow, to peek down a hallway and see another door open, hear a cry quieten, and gasp in horror at framed images of Snow and her _together_.

Her curse would not do this. It could _not_.

The only other person who would know what went wrong would be its maker. And that person was Rumpelstiltskin.

No way in hell was she going to allow the rest of her days to be lived out with her nemesis for a wife and a random baby as her child. Her mind made up, Regina pulled on the first dress she could find, and made no secret of her leaving the house she hadn’t the time nor space to appreciate.


	2. Memory Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has clicked on this story! It warms my heart to know that there are still people who like this ship, and some who still remember this story before I removed it.

Knowledge seemed to be an issue Regina didn’t need to worry herself with.

When she stormed out of her house with the intention of visiting Rumple, she didn’t stop to think about where he might be. Rather, she came to a tucked away store with a _closed_ sign she promptly ignored.

The tiny bell above the door jingled with such cheeriness that she had half the mind to stand on her tip toes and rip the blasted thing off. It was the sort of thing only Rumple would own, a taunting little tool that Regina prevented herself from destroying. For now.

The tapping of a cane caught her attention, and she followed the sound with her gaze until the Dark One stood before her, looking too calm for him to be anything but smug. “What the hell is happening?” she gritted out, slamming her hands on the glass counter in frustration. 

Rumple’s eyes widened slightly at the action. “I can assure you Madame Mayor, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He was eager to please, to put a stop to whatever was happening. It only made Regina more suspicious.

She looked at him closely, searching for any sign of deceit, but when he only swallowed thickly in response, Regina backed away slowly.

“Oh,” Rumple said, giving Regina too much hope, “I forgot my manners. Good morning to you too.” It was slimy and too wide, a knowing behind it that made Regina freeze. He seemed to be normal before; a cowering man behind a glass counter too easily broken—but now he stood straight, confident and arrogant.

She wasn’t thinking when she launched herself across the counter to grab at the lapel of his blazer, her teeth bared to him like the woman she used to be. “You put her in my bed. You, sick piece of—”

Shrugged off, Regina barely caught herself as Rumple came out from behind the counter, leaning heavily on his cane as he considered her. “You mean the woman you’ve been married to for—” he paused, trying to remember something that wasn’t there. Finally, he settled on, “A long time?” like that should explain everything.

This explained nothing. Because all of this _had_ to be his fault—it was his curse, his plan, his teachings that made her a monster. Regina had no doubt that he might have secured something he wanted at the expense of her reward.

They stared at each other for too long, silence stretching between them until Rumple sagged under the weight of it all. “Go home,” he told her, looking far too human for a man with a curse, “you have a new child, a wife. Spend time with them.”

A child. That wailing thing Regina had run from. The question of where it had come from still agitated her, because it certainly wasn’t _hers_. She stepped forward toward him, her voice dropping into something dangerous. “Listen here, you bastard. I never asked for any of this. You promised me my happy ending, only to tie me to my enemy with a child that isn’t mine. Now, you better _fix_ this or else.”

Rumple didn’t smile at her like she expected him to, he didn’t make grand gestures and tell her this was what she deserved. He stood there, looking at her like she was stranger, and said, “I can put together the paperwork required for a divorce. This is the only thing I can do within my capabilities.”

The professionalism with which Rumple spoke, the way he held himself, how he knew marriages could be dissolved by divorce and not only death—he was a mindless fool, controlled by a curse that had done the unspeakable to its caster. The unfairness of it all made her lean onto the nearest counter, gripping the edge tightly to try and maintain her balance. If the curse wanted to work this way, how could she upset everything by having Snow removed?

Caught in a dilemma, Regina looked up at her mentor again. “You did not flinch,” she rasped, catching onto a thread, too determined to win. “You did not deny that the child is not mine.”

This seemed to shake Rumple, to have him squirm where he stood as he watched Regina straighten up. He cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes as he looked down at his shoes. “Mrs Mills has a tendency to overshare. It is no secret in this town that you decided to use a sperm donor.”

Closing her eyes in embarrassment, because even her cursed self would not appreciate her private life being aired out, Regina took in a sharp breath. “Who?” She forced herself to ask, because maybe the father of the child was someone she could manipulate.

“A John Doe!” Rumple said, exasperated. “Honestly, Madame Mayor, your lack of recollection of your own personal affairs is worrying.” He reached out to her with concern, but Regina brushed him off. He was useless; and gave away information without asking for anything else in return. This wasn’t the Rumpelstiltskin she knew, and he probably would not be until the curse broke— _if_ it broke.

For someone who cursed herself into happiness, it certainly didn’t seem to be working. All Regina felt was very alone, trapped in a godforsaken town with a family she didn’t ask for, and the offer of a divorce something she rightfully considered for nothing else but a small reprieve from the enemy she spent too many years trying to kill.

There was one thing however; a John Doe. Regina knew that name, or lack thereof. She swore that if her child’s father was _that man_ , all hell would break loose. For everyone.

On her way out, that bell jingling its tune again, Rumple stopped her with a call. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked, “I’m sure I can call Doctor Whale, or Doctor Hopper, if you prefer?”

She glanced back at him, looking at this tiny man with a cane, a curse providing him monetary power as he hid away in a pawn shop stacked with used things. “No,” she lied, “I’m fine.” And then closed the door behind her blocking out whatever sympathy might be reflected in Rumple’s expression.

_Mr. Gold_ , she remembered. His name was Mr. Gold now.

* * *

Gold’s off-hand remarks weren’t enough, it didn’t answer why the curse had put her in such a situation or why she was married to Snow White. She would have tolerated sharing a house with her nemesis, being neighbours or co-workers, but certainly not something this _vulgar;_ something so permanent _._

Her face felt hot against her hands, and she could feel the vein in her forehead bulge as she thought about her next steps.

Regina knew the curse was already at work. It had successfully taken them to another land, made the most powerful sorcerer a puppet to its whims, and ruined her life. The easiest solution would be to kill Snow, to do what she had dreamt of for years, to finally have her revenge. And it should be easy—but what if it wasn’t?

What about the child that had dropped from nowhere, a convenient little thing in her house after Snow had given birth to the child pushed through a wardrobe? At the time, Regina had thought it irrelevant, but what if…?

John Doe.

That was who she needed to see.

Heavy and sure, her heels clicking against the pavement with purpose, Regina set off toward the hospital. Again, she didn’t need to think about where she was going or pay attention to the roads that looked so different to the ones back home. She had one thought, and that was enough for her to keep moving forward, to push aside the way her head throbbed and—

“Watch where you’re going!”

A gasp greeted her bark, one so apologetic, that Regina should have stopped to admire it. But instead, she cradled her arm in her hand and looked up ahead to where she assumed the hospital would be. If she allowed this to go on for too long, Regina was afraid she would get used to it, to the idea of a family she didn’t deserve.

“Regina?” came the question, accompanied by a tentative touch to her cheek. “I was looking everywhere for you.” It was the same when Regina was married to the King. Snow would search the castle for her, always needing one thing or another, always following Regina around like a puppy without an owner. But before Regina could speak, Snow murmured, “I think you’re running a fever.”

Shaking the hand away from her face, Regina hissed out, “That’s my blood pressure rising, not a fever.” She had too much to do, too many things to think about. There was a man in the hospital she needed to see, a curse to unravel, and a marriage to end before everything got out of hand.

Bypassing the stroller to make a quick getaway, Regina shook off another of Snow’s touches and ignored her hurt expression that tugged something deep within her. She would not make peace with the enemy, not even if she struggled to breathe and clawed at her chest, her vision swimming with the image of a perfect curse gone wrong.

One strong arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding onto her so tightly, that Regina felt herself steady under its touch. Panic sat in her throat, the knowledge of forever weighing her down, telling her of all the ways she had disgraced her revenge, of all the ways she had let herself lose. “I am going to the hospital,” she husked, breathing deeply through her nose. She had to hold onto something, even if it might be useless in the end.

She felt Snow nod in agreement against her head, and then release her when Regina stiffened at the contact once more. There would be no room for weakness after this, especially not for Snow White and a babbling baby she refused to look at.

“Okay,” Snow said softly, offering no other resistance as she pushed the stroller forward, intent on accompanying Regina who continued to ignore her presence. To acknowledge Snow was to acknowledge the child. And if it turned out to be The Saviour, Regina knew what she had to do.

The thought of it made bile rise up her throat.

Again, Snow held onto her arm as they approached the hospital, leading her inside where they stood motionless for a few moments. This was the place where Regina would find answers, where the heat along her skin and the ache in her chest could be cured if she asked them. And it would be a relief, if only Regina stood upright long enough to ask.

The last thing she remembered was looking at Snow, wondering how someone so naïve could become someone so important, she still manages to make a happy ending a nightmare.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my on twitter @ [RegallyLoyal](https://twitter.com/RegallyLoyal) where I post updates about my writing.


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